My world was turned upside down with one visit to the pediatrician. What was supposed to be a routine check-up for my twin boys, Josh and Andrew, spiraled into a revelation that threatened to destroy everything I held dear.
As I sat nervously in Dr. Dennison’s office, I couldn’t help but steal glances at my sons laughing in the waiting room. “Mr. Campbell,” the doctor said, gesturing for me to come inside. My heart thudded as I followed, leaving the boys to play outside.
“Is something wrong with Josh?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. Josh’s anemia had prompted additional tests, and I was bracing for bad news.
“Josh will be fine,” Dr. Dennison reassured me. “But there’s another issue I need to discuss with you.” The doctor hesitated, then dropped a bombshell. “Mr. Campbell, I ran additional bloodwork, and I need to ask—are you sure the boys are biologically yours?”
I blinked in disbelief. “What? Of course, they’re mine! Why would you even ask that?”
The doctor sighed, pushing a sheet of test results toward me. “Both Josh and Andrew have type A blood, but you and your wife are type B. This combination is genetically impossible. To be certain, I conducted a DNA test, and I’m sorry, Mr. Campbell, but the results confirm you’re not their biological father.”
The room spun. “If I’m not their father, then who…?” I trailed off, my voice barely audible.
Dr. Dennison’s words were clinical but devastating. “The DNA analysis shows that the boys are your half-siblings.”
Half-siblings. The term echoed in my mind as realization dawned. There was only one person who could be their biological father—my own.
The drive home was a blur. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. When I arrived, I found my boys happily embracing their grandfather, Robert. Fury bubbled in my chest as I watched the man I’d idolized, now seeing him in a completely different light.
“Grandpa!” the twins cheered, oblivious to the storm brewing in their father’s heart.
I forced a smile, but my voice was tense. “Boys, don’t you have a game night at Bobby’s? You should get going.”
As soon as the door closed behind them, I turned to my wife, Nancy, my voice like a whip. “Did you sleep with my father?”
Nancy froze, her face drained of color. “Harry, I…”
“Don’t lie to me!” I roared, slamming my hand on the table.
Robert stepped forward, attempting to intervene. “Son, let’s talk about this calmly—”